hsavinien: (J+W - Indeed)
[personal profile] hsavinien

Title: Mile-High
Author: H. Savinien
Warnings: Mention of terrorism, general illegal behavior.
Rating: PG
Wordcount: 435
Disclaimer: Inception and the characters featured here belong to numerous persons not me.  This fanwork is intended merely as a tribute.
Author's note: Plotbunny.  Lack of porn, though plenty of Eames flirting at Arthur in an airplane bathroom.  Not what the title would suggest.

***


“Darling, while I do have several fantasies involving you, the loo of a 747, and a transatlantic flight, this wasn't one of them,” Eames complained. Arthur had pulled him into the tiny cubicle, shoved him up against the door, and was now going through Eames's pockets.

“Shut up. Where's your gun?”

“Arthur. Pet. We are on an aeroplane. I don't have a gun. That's what they have air marshals for.”

Arthur rolled his eyes. “Yeah, except the 'air marshal' on this one is actually a member of a Norwegian extremist group of lunatics that considers the EU and internationality in general the scourge of the pristine North. Do you really want to end up in the middle of a plane hijacking?”

Eames considered that. “Not really. You're sure?”

“Of course I'm sure. I worked for his boss for three weeks before I could remove myself from the situation. He hasn't recognized me yet. Give me your gun.”

Eames sighed. “Fine, if you insist. Back up, love, and give us some space.” Arthur removed his elbow from Eames's stomach and scrunched back until he was sitting on the toilet. Eames pulled out his wallet, took off his tie pin and belt buckle, produced what appeared to be a steel ballpoint pen, and set about disassembling everything and putting his emergency gun together. Arthur whistled the James Bond theme under his breath, undeterred by Eames's withering look. “So how do you want to do this?”

Arthur hmmed. “I'll take him. I'll get him to the handicapped toilets, you drug him, I'll distract the flight attendants while you get him up to those luxury booths in the nose.”

“I'll buy him a drink and arrange him in picturesque disarray,” Eames promised, putting himself back in order and handing the tiny automatic to Arthur. “Have you pinched anyone's first class ticket yet or shall I?”

“Hm.” Arthur checked the gun. “I don't think we'll need to bother. Have you still got a working number for Saito?”

“Last I checked. Shall I give him a ring and ask for some unprecedentedly welcome police forces?”

“It would be nice to meet some law enforcement at the gate that aren't interested in us,” Arthur agreed. “Ready?”

“Right in front of you, sweetheart; just let me wash my hands.”

Arthur rolled his eyes.

“What, you don't?”

“Only when I've actually done something to warrant it.”

“Like dragging a devastatingly handsome fellow passenger into the loo to dishevel him?”

Arthur rolled his eyes, but he looked amused underneath it. Eames was satisfied.



Date: 2012-08-18 04:09 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] agenttrojie.livejournal.com
You and this adorable little story are both wonderful <3 I love the tightness of their bantering efficiency!

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